


Wooing

by TheDarknessConsumes



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Awkward Romance, F/M, Sibling Incest, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 16:13:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12610520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarknessConsumes/pseuds/TheDarknessConsumes
Summary: Jacob didn’t know anything about this “Reuge” fellow. What he did know, however, was that he was in need of some way to tell his sister how he felt about her, and what better way to do it than with some mythical treasure?





	Wooing

_“Michel Reuge’s vault!”_ She’d gasped, and even as he wasn’t quite sure how he could find these music boxes in that moment he knew just how he was going to confess his feelings, nimble fingers slipping that bloody book into his coat before she’d even spotted it.

When they’d first gotten to London Jacob hadn’t known exactly _why_ he felt the way he did. He wasn’t used to thinking about _emotions_ and _feelings_ and all that hopeless drivel, he was used to action and acting in the moment.

When he’d seen how Evie had looked at Greenie though he’d felt it; that sudden thud that echoed through his brain and left him stock still in shock.

And then he’d thought. _‘Another thing I really shouldn’t do.’_ He chided himself. He’d thought long and hard about why he felt like he did, gone over those interactions and decided that it was because they were blood; of course he feared losing her. And then Evie had looked at him with those big blue eyes and he’d flashed back to the way she looked at Green and it had hit him. _‘I want her to look at me like that.’_ He repeated to himself once more, sparsely able to reconcile with his own heart on the matter. _‘God, I must be mad.’_

On the bright side, though, whatever had been in that vault had apparently driven the finder mad, maybe it could bring him back to sanity? _‘Keep dreaming Frye.’_ He told himself vindictively. _‘You’re in love with your own bloody sister. Your clever, infuriating, artefact-obsessed know-it-all of a sister.’_

It felt better to think it than it really should’ve and he had a brief moment where he wondered what it would feel like to say it out loud.

 _‘Now, Jacob,’_ He reminded himself. _‘Save it until you’ve either passed on or found all of those music boxes.’_

The concept of never finding the music boxes actually eased his mind even as it reminded him that Evie would be so very enraged if she discovered his deception.

“That’s just the icing on the cake.” He murmured to himself, competitive to the last.

-X- -X-

Evie stared at her brother suspiciously, watching as he paced between his opponents agitatedly. The regulars of the City of London fighting pits were by now well aware that Jacob was the apex predator, years of training making him more than a match for any opponent and his sheer brutal tenacity allowing to take on the horde of brutes without tiring.

His fighting style certainly wasn’t a copy of the standard in-and-out approach of the regular Assassin, or a match to the fluid, smooth motions she preferred herself.

 _‘Of course,’_ she chuckled as some of the patrons of Robert’s pits shot her wary glances. _‘I’ve made more than a decent impression myself.’_

Evie much preferred her own style; quick, lithe and sudden, like a viper striking its prey, however she could (albeit reluctantly) admit that there was something... Viscerally thrilling about Jacob’s style, the heavy hits and jolting blows, muscles contracting and tensing as he struck, sweat and blood and dirt following his every move.

Her mind went to Henry for a moment, a fond smile gracing her face as she wondered just how he might fight. Perhaps alike to her own style, or maybe taking advantage of his opponent’s weaknesses?

As quick as Jacob’s first bout had begun his last bout ended, a heavy foot knocking the last of the combatants to the floor. “Well done, Jacob.” She congratulated idly, lost in fantasy. With a grunt he spun, levelling her with a look that froze her in her tracks.

The ring quieted and slowly Jacob nodded, a raucous cheer rising through the dingy room.

 _‘What on earth?’_ Evie exhaled slowly, suddenly aware that she’d been holding her breath for the last few seconds. What had just happened, exactly? She’d never been afraid of Jacob; she knew, after all, that she could match him in combat. In fact she was the more studious of them both and better at stealth by far. Still, something in that look of his had seared through her, burning bright and leaving a mark that had her heart almost fit to bursting. _‘Why was I so wary all of a sudden?’_

Her brother had always been the wilder of the two, going after fights and drinks and women with a kind of feral temerity that had impressed her in spite of herself, but never before had he- _‘Wait.’_ She slowly backtracked, going over her thoughts with a ponderous curiosity. _‘Fights, women and drink.’_

“Jacob.” She started, the sentence echoing in her mind.

“Hm?” He intoned drolly, wiping at his sweat-addled face with a damp towel and raising an eyebrow. “Something the matter, Evie?”

His casual tone couldn’t fool her and the more observant Assassin narrowed her eyes, smirking as she noticed the nervous undertone. “Do you...” Jacob tensed. “...Fancy a few rounds in the ring?”

“What?” He blurted, blinking incredulously as she shrugged off her overcoat. “No! Evie, I can safely say that I have no intention of getting in the ring against you.”

Evie paused, coat around her shoulders as he spoke. “Oh.” She hummed, raising a single fine eyebrow at his awkward smirk. “Are you quite sure?” She teased.

Jacob huffed, shaking his head in dismay. “Evie, the last time we had a ‘spar’ you nearly took out one of my kneecaps and broke my arm. I daresay once was more than enough!”

The few eavesdropping patrons collectively flinched at his description.

Evie grinned, a mischievous glimmer in her eye. “Well, so long as you remember who’s the stronger of us both.”

“More like ‘More vicious of us both’.” He mumbled in good humour. Overhead the high beams creaked and shook earning worried murmurs from the newcomers to the Underground fighting ring and a set of twin excited grins from Jacob and his sister. “Race you to the train!” He rushed out, spinning on his heel to jog out the door.

“Jacob!” She called after him, rolling her eyes as he dashed away. “You’ve forgotten your clothes!” Despite the callout her shirtless brother failed to reappear and Evie sighed, composed as always as she went to grab up his coat and hat.

As she grabbed the crumbled bundle of clothing she wrinkled her nose, cringing slightly as sweat and pungent ale assaulted her nostrils. “ _Jacob,_ ” She groaned, shaking out the ratty coat and frowning as a small note fell from the pocket. “”Number... Twenty-nine near Whitechapel or in Whitechapel?”” She squinted. “Is this your secret project, Jacob?”

She wasn’t oblivious. Evie had definitely noticed how her twin kept disappearing at odd hours of the night and day alike, however she had thought he was merely hunting for ‘hidden treasure’ or drinking with the Rooks as he was usually wont to do. “What have you been up to, Jacob?” She pondered, pocketing the small piece of paper and absently clenching fistfuls of fabric.

-X- -X-

Jacob hummed to himself, fingers tapping against the couch impatiently as he scanned the slip of paper in his hand. He was thankful that the book containing the clues to Reuge’s vault had been rather roughshod even before he found it or he was sure that Evie might’ve had words for him when she discovered that he had taken the pages from the bindings.

Since his procurement of the book two pages had already gone missing, though fortunately he had already found most of the music boxes anyway. “Still,” He murmured to himself absently. “I’d best get a move on with this.” Jacob wasn’t ordinarily so observant; even he could admit that his sister was the more studious of the two, however he’d began to notice the suspicious-by-nature attitude of his sister had led her to notice that _something_ was going on with him.

“Jacob,” Speak of the devil and she shall appear. “Any progress on this little project of yours?”

This was the first time she had ever actually brought it up and Jacob started slightly, hastily tucking the shoddy note inside his coat. “Hello Evie,” He started, smiling disarmingly as he climbed to his feet. “I’m not quite sure what you’re talking about.”

Evie levelled him with a knowing look, lips twisting into a bemused frown. “I know you’re up to something, Jacob.” She informed him stiffly, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. “And I’m going to find out what.”

 _‘Oh, don’t do that.’_ He winced, suppressing his tells as best possible as he chuckled. “Why Evie, darling sister, I’m _certain_ you’ve got the wrong end of the stick.” He assured her, smirking suavely. “There’s nothing going on that you need to worry about.”

“But there _is_ something going on?” Jacob winced once more. “Whenever you get that shit-eating smug smirk of yours pasted across your face I know that you’re up to something.” _‘Shit-eating grin!?’_ He stumbled. “I’ve got my eye on you.”

“Evie,” Jacob cut the act, face serious as he spoke. “I know that you’re suspicious but don’t follow me on this. It’s a surprise.”

“A surprise?” She drawled, intrigue glinting in those deep blue orbs even as she affected a disinterested facade. “You _know_ I don’t like surprises.”

“You’ll like this one.” He promised, pausing before he amended his statement hesitantly. “Or... At least part of it.”

His sister blinked, scanning his features and registering the boyish fear that she hadn’t seen grace his face since they were children. “Jacob, are you in any trouble?”

“God yes.” He sighed, cradling his forehead with a perplexed grimace. “But only with myself. Just give me a week.”

Evie raised a hand in confusion, thinking on asking for clarification before, with a huff, she simply shook her head. “Fine. A week, but then you’ll tell me what’s going on with you.” She ordered.

Despite the pressure Jacob cracked a grin, quirking an eyebrow at her familiar bossy tone. “Of course. Would I lie to you?” He asked, both hands rising in query even as he backed out of the carriage. The last thing he saw before exiting the train was her incredulous stare.

And so the week continued, days passing with a feverous determination working around their struggles, and he could clearly see her aggravation continue to grow as he grew more and more tired.

It was almost a relief when, on the fifth day, he finally managed to find the final music box. Almost.

“Finally,” He breathed, slumping into one of London’s many benches and grinning tiredly. “It’s done.”

“You seem quite pleased with yourself.” Evie noted. She hummed contemplatively. “Good for you, I suppose. Why did it take so long?” The question was voiced with an intense stare that made his heart skip a beat.

“I had to think.” Was all he could think to answer with, licking his chapped lips nervously.

“Ah. Understandable, then.” She jabbed, smirking at his affronted expression. “Henry and I considered a bet on whether or not you’d honestly complete this _project_ of yours within seven days.”

“”Considered”?” He snorted, furrowing his brow as he imagined Evie and Greenie sitting alone in that shop of his. “But Greenie was far too proper to do such a thing.” He decided, raising an eyebrow.

Evie frowned, discontent with his casual, yet no less correct, analysis. “Well, yes.” She reluctantly conceded. “For what it’s worth, if we _had_ decided to make the bet he would have won.”

Jacob held a hand to his chest. “Ouch. Such harsh words.” He murmured. “It’s a wonder I love you.” He tensed.

“You have your own fair share of aggravating phrases, _brother dear._ ” She retorted bitingly, nose scrunched as he exhaled in relief. “Something wrong?”

Even as she spoke he could see worry sparking behind her curiosity and the usually straight-forward twin decided to be candid, looking away with a short, sharp nod. “Yes.” He quickly continued before she could intercept. “I did promise that I would show you, didn’t I? Come on.”

With that he dashed back towards the train, leaving the Lithe Assassin to trail after him, contemplation marring her expression.

-X- -X-

“Michel Reuge’s vault?” She queried, unimpressed. “We’ve been here before, Jacob. There’s no way to get whatever’s in there.”

“Actually...” Jacob slowly withdrew his sack of tokens, wincing as they jangled together with the sharp clack of metal-on-metal. “...That’s not entirely accurate.”

Evie stared down at the unassuming brown sack, flitting her gaze between her brother’s sheepish face and the burlap clenched in a tight, white fist. “I should wallop you.” She breathed, nostrils flaring with her frustration. “I should _wallop_ you bloody hard.”

“Uh.” Jacob hastily stepped back, putting just a _little_ extra distance between him and his irritated sibling. “I did it for you?”

The words were spoken almost more as a question than a statement yet still they permeated her vexed state, drawing her gaze, with a startled blink, up to his sheepish half-smile. “ _I’m sorry_?” A warm feeling suffused her, drying her throat sharply and requiring a moment to clear it. “Ahem, I’m sorry?” She asked once more.

“I did it for you.” He repeated obligingly, holding up the sack. “Also, if you kill me I may drop this and I’m hoping that’ll give me enough time to run.” He joked weakly.

Evie ignored the terrible crack, instead revaluating the sight of her brother, standing there with a coat full of cryptic notes and a sack full of aged treasure. “”You did it for me”?” She repeated faintly, freckled cheeks marred with a rosy shade of pink. “Jacob, that-“ Hastily she cleared her throat again, looking away and cursing herself for her easily swayed heart. “Thank you.” She whispered.

“ _Don’t thank me yet._ ” He grumbled, grimacing as she shot him a curious look. “Let’s open this vault first.”  He decided. _‘At least then maybe you’ll remember me fondly.’_

“Alright.” She blinked, marvelling as he handed her the sack and taking her time to insert the well-worn symbols. “It’s a shame this was so sudden. I’m sure Mr. Green would have loved to see this.” She mused.

“ _Right._ ” Jacob swallowed at the thought of Greenie witnessing his moment of humiliation. “I must be a glutton for punishment.” He spoke blankly, pulling off his hat to sweep distractedly at the smooth material.

“Sorry?”

“Nothing!” He blurted, smiling faintly as she inserted the last of the pieces needed for the puzzle. “I just...” He trailed off, breathing in sharply as she spun to view the contents of the vault. Evie had always been obsessed with the artefacts; the Pieces of Eden were, after all, the primary source of contention between them both and the greatest thing bonding her and their father. Still, as he watched her face go through a metamorphosis, glee spreading at the sight of whatever was in the vault, he decided that maybe they weren’t _that_ bad.

“It’s _beautiful._ ” She spoke softly.

Jacob stepped around the back of the container, taking in the shimmering white-and-gold outfit with a certain level of awe. The coat _was_ beautiful, but the most beautiful thing in the room to him was the one standing in front of it. “I love you.” He blurted, the silence of the vault enshrouding him in nervousness.

She spun, grinning widely. “Jacob! Oh, I love you too brother!” The lithe Assassin flung an arm over his shoulders, admiring the find with an assessing gaze.

“No, Evie, I...” Jacob slumped, brushing off her camaraderie with a hurt frown and clapping a hand on her back. “ _Love_ you. Like, _love_ love.”

Evie looked at him, eerily silent. “I don’t... Follow.” She spoke slowly, faint confusion lacing her tone. “Jacob, what are you-“

Jacob groaned, frustration rising as he braced himself, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. Despite his efforts he had no illusions that she would return his feelings and so he savoured the moment all that he could, fingers running through her hair and across her back and mouth worrying at her defences.

For her part Evie was still, staring at him in stunned silence and feeling a familiar outrage welled up. “Jacob!” She finally pushed at him, barely allowing him to stumble back a foot before her fist was flying, a sharp crack echoing in the cavernous room. “What the _hell_ are you doing?”

Jacob collapsed to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut, catching himself in a crouch and avoiding her horrified gaze. “I-“

“I’m your sister!” She heaved, stepping back into the vault and feeling hard metal beyond the silky fabric of the coat they’d found. ‘ _He had found.’_ She corrected absently. “What on earth _are you doing!?’_

Her hands shook as he stayed silent, gaze fixed intently on the ground and off of her disgusted face.

Evie took a deep breath, swallowing intently. “Henry has asked me to marry him,” She spoke, an edge to her as his head shot back up. “With London no longer under Templar control the council feels that he’s not needed. He’s heading back to India and I may be going with him.”

 _“No!”_ His voice dripped with pain, fists clenching as he shot to his feet. “Evie, don’t-“

“Don’t _what_ , Jacob?” She spoke firmly, glaring at him as he stepped forward and grabbed her arms. “Get off me.”

Jacob hesitated, face contorted in agony. “Don’t go, I-“ Abruptly he stilled, hands dropping as he stepped away. “I’m sorry, Evie.”

Her gaze was steely as she examined his downcast expression, a wetness forming in her eyes as she took in his slumped, shaking posture and pale, pasty skin. “Jacob.” She rasped, stilling as she wet her lips. “You-“ She couldn’t quite find the words to say.

With a frustrated sigh the more professional Assassin turned her attention to the treasure of Michel Reuge, examining the patterns of the shimmering outfit with a wistful eye. “We- I’ll need to report this to the council.” She spoke, running fingers through the silky material and swallowing deeply.

The outfit was exquisite, all golden lines and white light that twinkled in the dull light cast from the street. _‘Definitely not suited to an Assassin.’_ She mused critically. _‘Though that’s not stopped some of the previous masters.’_ She froze.

“You’ve done well.” As she turned she took in the form of her brother, back now to the wall as he tilted his tophat down to cover his eyes, lips stuck in a perpetual frown as he stared at the ground. “Thank you.”

He didn’t respond and as she stepped closer she _saw_ his sallow cheeks and crooked nose, scars running across his brow and jaw clenched, the thin line running through his stubble all the more prominent for it.

She wasn’t quite sure what was going through her mind as she stopped before him, taking in the genuine hurt and surprised to find the first glimmers of such rising in herself. “You-“ She shuddered, guilt and fear and _distaste_ and disgust all rising up and taking root in her chest. _“You-“_

For a second she thought he’d kissed her again, thin hairs tickling her chin and warm skin awkwardly pressing against her cheek, but then she realized that her hands were on _his_ shoulders, grip tight as she took in smoke and gin, the taste transparent as he always was.

She pulled back, unsure what to say to his astounded, wide and above all _hopeful_ gaze. “You could’ve at least had a mint.” She chided vacantly, for once indulging in the fact that she didn’t know where she was going.

“I’ll eat only mint for the rest of my life if you stay.” He swore. “Promise.”

“That-“ Her guilt intensified yet still she felt her lips twist, forming as close to a smile as she could manage in the circumstances. “That won’t be necessary.” Jacob’s eyes dulled, hurt engulfing her and bringing with it the realization that she could’ve ended up without him.  “I’ll stay.”

The bark of laughter that escaped apparently startled him as much as it did her and the two paused, sharing a look that quickly morphed into twin crooked grins. “I swear,” Jacob looked her dead in the eye. “I’ll make this all worth it. I’m not sure how, yet, but just give me a chance.”

Evie glanced at his hopeful smile, heart fluttering as she realized that she felt _shy._ “I’ll hold you to that.” She agreed, surprised to find that she felt a sensation she’d never felt around him before.  “Just be patient with me, Jacob.”

Her words were soft and his lips parted as his gaze flitted over her face, memorizing every feature with a tenacity that startled her. “I’ll wait however long you need, Evie.”

**END**


End file.
